SuzanneElstonAnActivistsStoryeHomemakers - Helping People Help Themselves

eHomemakers - Helping People Help Themselves
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SUNDAY, 10 APR 2011
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OUR INITIATIVES ENVIRONMENT & SOCIO- SEARCH Go
ECONOMIC ISSUES: Feature
E-Newsletter To Articles
Friends &
Sponsors An Activist's Story MEMBERS CORNER
Events And A dozen years ago, I was a new

Activities mother living in a strange new world
called the country. When I had first
married my husband, two years
Publications earlier, I had left the security of my
trendy beaches apartment for his
family's homestead some 60
Research kilometres east of Toronto. Like me,
Brian had been an urban dweller
until his mother told him that she
Monthly E- could no longer manage her
Newsletters deceased mother's home. Rather
than sell it to a stranger, he bought
the property and began the process
of making it inhabitable by modern
Media Kit
standards. By the time we were
married, our 1827 farmhouse had
become a warm little haven that only
Printed required the addition of small
Newsletter, children to make it complete.
Home + Work Once our first son was born, I
began the process of baby-
proofing our home. My initial
Newsroom concern was for his indoor
environment. But as his ability to
move around expanded, so did my
WORK@HOME gaze. I learned what plants on our
property were a potential danger
Scams to our curious young son and
exactly how long it would take
him to reach the end of our 100
Home-based metre driveway.
Profiles The next logical step was to look
at the safety and security of my
own community. For me, that
Homebiz meant examining the potential
Innovation impact of the Darlington Nuclear Username:
Generating Station, located just Password:
five kilometres from our home.
The more questions I raised about
Remember me:
Interactive Guide
nuclear issues, the less secure I Log in
felt, but I kept my concerns to

myself until the summer of 1986. I forgot my password

IT Tips & Issues

It was to be, I discovered later, a
pivotal time for many people who Free Membership
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community leaders in the
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me it started with a simply We highly recommend the products and
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A family in our congregation asked following businesses
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Single Mothers peacefully in the lush green field.
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was at peace with the world.
DOMESTIC ISSUES My pure joy was interrupted by a
simple statement: "This farm has
Family been expropriated for a nuclear
waste dump".
The words hit me like a ton of

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farms had been a desperate eHOMEMAKERS' TWEETS
attempt to make others see what
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ehomemakers
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facility.
There will be a first hand preview of Book 2 of the
A few weeks later, I found myself Leadership Training Programme during the Bukit
Let's Explore
standing in the pouring rain with Gasing Leadership Services.
several hundred others outside
33 days ago
the gates of the low-level
Maths & Science radioactive waste dump at Port ·
In English Granby. After decades of reply
promises, the federal government ·
SAFETY & HEALTH had finally agreed to clean up the
retweet
site. The solution was to move the
waste to another, safer facility. ·
Nutrition The farms that we had visited in favorite

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sites that had been selected as a You're invited to Bukit Gasing Leadership Services,
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As we arrived at the dump, each
one of us donned a black armband 33 days ago
General Health
made of crepe paper. When the ·
speeches ended, we were asked
reply
to tie our soggy bands of protest
Women's Health to the chain-link fence that ·
surrounded the facility. As the retweet
ENVIRONMENT & rain turned the paper into mush, ·

SOCIO-ECONOMIC the color ran down the fence in
favorite
tiny rivers of dark, blood red.
ISSUES
Something stirred deep inside me. Wish your mobile phone can do more? Details here
Green Pledges Our second child had only begun :
to grow inside my body weeks
http://www.ehomemakers.n...
before, and yet now it seemed he
would share my very being with
Green Living 130 days ago
another life force. I had always
had a strong sense of social ·
justice, but this was beyond my reply

Feature Articles reasoning. A voice that had ·
remained silent for far too long
retweet
spoke to my spirit, demanding
Socio-Economic action. ·
Issues favorite
I carried home with me a leaflet
that had been distributed by a
INSPIRATION Hey! Ladies! How would you like to look pretty and
fledging anti-nuclear group.
well groomed? Details here :
Despite my inner urgings, it took
Motivating Minds several days to work up the http://www.ehomemakers.n...
courage to call. When I finally did,
I discovered that the group, 130 days ago
Laugh Lines known as Durham Nuclear ·

Awareness (DNA), had only just
reply
begun to get organized. One of its
VOICES founding members, Jeff Brackett, ·
came to our home and talked retweet
Family passionately about the need for ·

community involvement. His
favorite
concern, like mine, had grown out
of his concern for his family. What
Homemakers
was so remarkable about Jeff was
his incredibly shy, quiet manner. Join the conversation
If this man could become an
Single Again activist and put his personal
privacy on the line, then I could,
too.
Work@Home
From the very start, it felt like we
were doing something dangerous.
Here we were, a group of
Hand-Made Eco- housewives and pacifists, taking
Baskets on an issue that no one was even
talking about - let alone
challenging. It was exciting. The
truth was that I was getting a
Order little bored with the stay-at-home
routine, and longed for a little
excitement. Taking on Ontario

Hydro and the nuclear

Salaam Wanita's
establishment was just the kind of
Eco-Baskets
David and Goliath battle I was
looking for, and I could do it from
Network Of Angels the safety of my own living room.
I made phone calls, read all the

Be an information I could get my hands
Angel on and attended local meetings.
Our first task was to draw
and help attention to Ontario Hydro's plan
to transport tritiated heavy water
disadvantaged from the Pickering and Bruce
women nuclear stations along Highway
. 401 to a new Tritium Removal
Facility that was being built at
Darlington. We lobbied local
Home-Based governments to ban the transport
Administrative through their communities.
Assistant (HAA) Although our efforts were
Programme unsuccessful, we gained a great of
knowledge about how to organize,
write media releases and get
UP Training of press coverage.
single moms (2006-
2007) As a kid my mother always said
that I never had a shy bone in my
body. Later on, as a young
Training of 30
woman, I had spent several years
physically
as the lead singer in a bar band.
challenged
Although the experience seemed
members (2008-
rather meaningless at the time, as
2009)
I assumed my new role as
activist/mother, I realized that my
ability to deal with bright lights
and rowdy crowds would come in
very handy.
When the first opportunity came

to do an on-camera interview, I
was ready. I was about six
months pregnant, but the camera
angle made it look like I was
about to give birth at any second.
Unaware of exactly how much of
me would be included in the
picture, I had tucked my hands
up under my heavy belly for
support. The result was quite
compelling. Here was this sweet
looking young mother, obviously
heavy with child and concern,
pleading for the safety of her
community.
The day before our second son

was born, I attended a meeting
about emergency planning. I was
experiencing one of those burst of
energy that women get shortly
before giving birth. I'd been house
bound for about three weeks, and

desperately needed to get out. My

belly was so big that when I tried
to parallel park the car, I got
stuck. I can still remember one
woman who was heading into the
meeting standing on the sidewalk
yelling at me. She asked me if I
was pregnant or just plain stupid.
When I finally waddled out of the
car, her angry scowl quickly
turned into a belly laugh.
When I finally got into the

meeting I met Irene Kock,
another of the founding members
of DNA. She had been busy
working in Toronto at the office of
Nuclear Awareness Project (DNA),
the parent group that had
spawned DNA. It became
apparent that Durham was where
the action was, so together with
her partner in life and concern,
Dave Martin, the NAP office was
combined with DNA and moved to
a small office in Oshawa.
I think Irene is one of the reasons
I have continued my commitment
to DNA over the years. She is
everything that I have ever
aspired to be: bright, focused,
hard working, incredibly well
organized and independent. Her
friendship has often fired my own
commitment when I felt I had
little left to give.
Little would I know back then that

my involvement with DNA would
not only change my life and how I
view the world, but it would also
have a profound affect on my
family. From nuclear waste
dumps, my concern grew to
include all aspects of
environmental protection including
waste management, recycling,
incineration and public health.
Along the way I was threatened,
ridiculed and ignored. But
thousands of hours of unpaid
work have resulted in small,
gratifying changes that have
convinced me that one individual
can make a difference.
Two years after my second son

was born I had become
overwhelmed with the demands
on my time. Our phone rang
constantly with questions about

everything from how we could

expand the blue box program in
our community to evacuation
plans in the event of a nuclear
accident. Late night meetings,
letter writing and organizing had
pushed me to the end of my
physical limits. I ended up with
pneumonia and a little time on
my hands to re-assess exactly
what I was trying to accomplish.
It was my husband who first

reasoned that if so many people
were desperate for information
about the environment, there had
to be a more effective way to
make it available. It was his idea
for me to approach our local
newspapers about writing an
environmental 'Dear Abby' column
where people could send in their
questions.
I had always wanted to become a

writer, so with a lot more nerve
than talent, I painstakingly
drafted two sample columns and
submitted them to my local
newspaper. When the editor called
to tell me I had a job, I was
ecstatic until reality set in. The
first shock came when I
discovered that I would be paid
the grand sum of $ 25 per
column. The second was when I
realized that I didn't have a clue
what I was going to write about
each week.
Self-doubt can be an amazing

motivator. I wrote great volumes
each week that were lovingly and
surgically edited by my husband.
There were times when my writing
was so bad he'd have no idea
what I was trying to say. I'd get
angry and start yelling that he
was stupid if he didn't get it. I
start explaining to him what
exactly it was I had written and
he'd quietly say, "Great, now
write that down!"
The idea snowballed. Within a few

short months I was writing a
weekly environment column,
appropriately titled 'Your Earth',
for a half dozen southern Ontario
papers. In addition, I was
frequently being used by my
editors as an environmental

consultant and helped to expand

my column to a full page of
environmental coverage each
week. Papers have come and
gone over the years, thanks
mostly to the volatile nature of
the business, but I continue to
write for several newspapers. The
bad news is that columnists rarely
get paid well for their work.
Financially, my new found
profession did little more than
cover my direct costs like long
distance, printing and postage.
It was shortly after my column

had become established that I
was approached by the Ontario
Advisory Council on Women's
Issues to write a book for their
'Action on Issues' series. Once
again I felt like I had bitten off
more than I could chew. A weekly
column was one thing, but writing
an entire book was beyond my
capabilities. I sweated; I swore
and fought with my husband
when my writing was unclear or
unfocused.
When I finally submitted the final

draft, I became a victim of my
own success. I originally had been
asked to submit a 100-page
document. Unfortunately, a book
of this size would have to be
bound, which would push printing
costs up. If I could cut it down to
a 60-page booklet, they could
double their print run. After
pouring my soul into carefully
crafting each sentence, I was
faced with the job of slashing
40% of my work. Although I
dreaded it, the editing job was
perhaps one of the best learning
experiences that I have ever had.
I learned that no words are
sacred, and no matter how good
you think something is, it can
always be improved.
The booklet, when it was finally

published in the Fall of 1990, was
entitled 'Women & the
Environment, and was quickly sold
out. (Unfortunately, thanks to
government cutbacks, money was
never made available for a
reprint.)
Years passed. DNA emerged in

the community as a driving force

for community health and nuclear
responsibility. When we first
began it was virtually impossible
to get a story in the local
newspapers. Shortly before The
Oshawa Times was shutdown, we
jokingly suggested that it be re-
named the Nuclear Free Press
because of the number of stories
that ran about nuclear issues.
Today the group is a well-

respected voice in the community.
Hardly a week goes by when Irene
Kock or Dave Martin are not being
interviewed by national and local
media about one issue or another.
Remarkably, the hard working
core of DNA has remained
constant at about six individuals.
In light of recent successes, our
motto has become, "Just think
what we could do with a dozen
people."
The price was high. Volunteerism

takes it toll in many ways,
particularly when you are dealing
with such a depressing issue.
What is rarely taken into
consideration is the uneven
playing field that volunteers play
on. The polluters we fight have
money for salaries, traveling,
printing and communications. For
a stay-at-home mom, the cost of
baby-sitting, long distances
charges and gas expenses were
often prohibitive.
On a personal level, my health

suffered. Over the years I have
struggled frequently with bouts of
pneumonia and depression,
sometimes simultaneously. My
husband and I have argued over
the cost the rest of our family has
paid for my involvement. Friends
and family have often encouraged
me to quit, explaining that it was
time for someone else to pick up
the slack, but there have never
been any offers.
I think that part of me is relieved.

I sometimes feel like some battled
scarred veteran who has earned
the right to march in the
Remembrance Day parade. When
I started over a dozen years ago,
I was young, inexperienced and

naive. Along the way I had

learned skills that I didn't think
that I could ever master. More
importantly, I can now list among
my friends some of the great
spirits of this age - people that
time will remember long after I
am gone. In some ways it feels
like I've tied myself to the
immortality of their deeds.
It hasn't all been struggle. There

have been wonderful experiences
along the way. In 1992 I attended
the Earth Summit in Rio de
Janeiro and had my entire
paradigm shattered. For the most
part, the official part of the
conference was dull and
predictable. What was
revolutionary was the 30,000
souls that attended The Global
Forum, a parallel conference that
was held for non-governmental
organizations. Once again, I was
invited to play with giants. Great
souls who looked upon me as a
like-minded individual. That
experience fed my tired soul like
some magical elixir.
The spirit at that conference was

palpable. The air practically
sparkled with the energy and
commitment of the participants.
Networks were forged, ideas were
exchanged, and everyone present
got a very real sense of what
'Think globally, Act locally' could
actually mean.
Given my background as an anti-

nuclear activist, it was a bit of a
shock when I realized that Canada
is considered one of the world's
'bad guys' when it comes to
nuclear proliferation. In this
country, and indeed in most of
the free world, we are granted
certain rights and freedoms that
allow us to express our concern
about nuclear power and to
actively lobby against it. Sadly,
this is not so in most of the third
world where nuclear stations are
considered part of the military.
Protesting against nuclear power
and/or weapons can be considered
an act of treason, which is
punishable by loss of
employment, harassment,

imprisonment or even death.
I returned from Rio with a

renewed sense of purpose and a
much broader mandate. My
activism had begun years ago
when I realized that in order to
ensure my children's safety I had
to ensure that the big backyard of
my community must also be made
safe. I now realized that in order
for one child to be safe and
secure, all children must be
granted the right to a safe
environment. The world had
become too small, and the
problems too complex to ignore
the needs of a single child.
I continued my work with

revitalized passion for another
year until I discovered, to my
surprise and delight, that I was
pregnant. Carrying a child in my
fortieth year was the hardest work
that I have ever done. My unborn
daughter seemed to sense this,
and to my body's relief, decided
to arrive a little earlier than
anticipated. Although five weeks
premature, Sarah weighed almost
seven pounds and appeared to be
in good health. Immature lung
development can be a major
problem for preemies, but after
two days in an incubator, Sarah
seemed fine.
The trouble began when she

developed a cold a few months
later. The virus left Sarah with a
persistent cough that would not
go away. After weeks of shuttling
her back and forth to our family
doctor, she finally saw a specialist
who immediately admitted her
into the intensive care ward at our
local hospital.
The diagnosis was asthma and for

the next two months our world
became a nightmare struggle to
save Sarah's life. Continuing to
breast feed her seemed like the
one thing that I could do to help
my baby. I slept in hospital
corridors and wrote my column on
the back of the nurses' clipboards.
In the face of her illness,
continuing to write each week was
the one thing that helped keep
my life sane and predictable. It

forced me to think rationally and

in doing so, gave order to the
world that seemed to be falling
apart around me.
Her illness was so bad that for

the first week she was only
allowed to leave the oxygen tent
that had become her home to be
nursed. As we watched her
struggle to breathe, we became
parental experts on the disease
that was threatening her life.
Childhood asthma is on a
dramatic increase in this country,
particularly in the Montreal to
Windsor corridor. It is not
surprising that this area also hosts
the most badly polluted air in
Canada. I was angry. After all the
sacrifices, after all the hard work,
it was my baby that was stricken
with an illness that could be
directly related to air pollution. It
just didn't seem fair.
I stayed by Sarah's side night and

day while my husband cared for
our sons and labored to create a
safe haven for her for when she
was able to return home. The
first things to go were our old
furnace and wood stove, followed
sadly by our two beloved cats.
By the time her asthma was

under control a month later,
Sarah was on a hefty dose of
prednisone. When we tried to
take her off the drug, her body
rebounded, and her tiny brain
almost exploded. One moment
she was lying peacefully in my
arms, and the next we were
rushing to emergency to save her
life. A series of spinal taps and
two weeks at the Hospital for Sick
Children in Toronto, and we were
finally able to bring our daughter
home.
Two months had passed and we

were physical, emotionally and
financially exhausted. My husband
I were already at the end of our
ropes when the contractors we
had hired to replace our oil
furnace neglected to empty the oil
tank before they tried to remove
it. As they moved it off its base,
the weight of the five hundred
litres of fuel oil it still contained

spilt the tank. Despite their best

efforts to clean the mess up, the
residual smell was so
overpowering that our home was
deemed unfit to live in. While
Sarah and I resided at Sick Kids,
my husband and sons moved into
the local Holiday Inn while clean-
up crews had to renovate our
home to make it livable again.
When I look back, it's hard to

believe that we survived it all in
one piece. There were times that
my husband and I could barely
talk to each other and our two
sons understandably became
unsettled and unhappy. But in the
end, we came through it all.
The circle was complete. I had

stepped outside my own garden
to ensure the safety of my
children. Now my daughter's
biggest enemy was our own
home environment. After two
years of living with a compressor
four times a day, Sarah was
transferred to inhalers shortly
before her second birthday.
Today, with careful monitoring
and constant vigilance, she is a
healthy, thriving little girl.
It was Margaret Mead who once

said, "Never doubt that a small
group of concerned citizens can
change the world. Indeed, it is
the only thing that ever has." The
greatest gift of my involvement
has been having the opportunity
to count among my friends some
of this era's great spirits.
Unknown to most, history will
record their valiant efforts and
remember them as the ones who
made the difference. What is so
remarkable about these
individuals is they are, as one
activist said, "Simply ordinary
people, doing extraordinary
things."
I never had a chance to ask the

owners of the farm in Tyrone why
they selected my husband and I
to visit their farm that day. We
were simply a hard working
couple, wanting to raise our
young family in peace. But
perhaps this is the greatest
example of how one tiny action

can change things. Their simple

invitation was the catalyst that led
to over a decade of involvement
for me.
It wasn't always easy. When I

began, my life was like a babbling
brook, skipping along the riverbed
of life, sparkling and bubbling with
joy. In a dozen years, that brook
has deepened and widened into a
river - slow and purposeful. The
spontaneous joy is gone, but it
has been replaced by something
much stronger.
When I've had an opportunity

over the years to talk to groups
about the work I've done, I
always conclude by saying, "If you
see something that needs to be
done, and find yourself saying,
'somebody should do something
about that', then chances are,
that someone is you." It has been
exciting, frustrating and
inspirational work that is never
ending. No matter what happens,
there is always a reason to get
out of bed in the morning.
It is truly within every one of us

to make a difference - to protect
this world for future generations.
The motive, ultimately, is selfish.
For we don't secure the world for
our children and our children's
children. Indeed it is they who
secure ours. For without children
there can be no future. And
without a future it is all simply
dust in the wind.
Article contributed by Suzanne

Elston
Reprinted online with permission

from Women's Press. For secured
online ordering follow
this link
Printer Friendly Page

Copyright © Corpcom Services Sdn Bhd 2011. All rights reserved.

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This is Google's cache of

. It is a snapshot of the page as it appeared on 31 Jan 2011 10:42:32 GMT. The

could have changed in the meantime.

These search terms are highlighted: brian elston oshawa century home

http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/...on+oshawa+century+home&cd=8&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=ca&source=www.google.ca[4/10/2011 1:38:33 AM]

OUR INITIATIVES ENVIRONMENT & SOCIO- SEARCH Go

Events And A dozen years ago, I was a new

felt, but I kept my concerns to

http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/...on+oshawa+century+home&cd=8&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=ca&source=www.google.ca[4/10/2011 1:38:33 AM]

IT Tips & Issues

The words hit me like a ton of

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Tyrone were only a few of the

surrounded the facility. As the retweet

ENVIRONMENT & rain turned the paper into mush, ·

justice, but this was beyond my reply

Laugh Lines known as Durham Nuclear ·

came to our home and talked retweet

Family passionately about the need for ·

http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/...on+oshawa+century+home&cd=8&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=ca&source=www.google.ca[4/10/2011 1:38:33 AM]

Hydro and the nuclear

I made phone calls, read all the

When the first opportunity came

The day before our second son

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desperately needed to get out. My

When I finally got into the

Little would I know back then that

Two years after my second son

http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/...on+oshawa+century+home&cd=8&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=ca&source=www.google.ca[4/10/2011 1:38:33 AM]

everything from how we could

It was my husband who first

I had always wanted to become a

Self-doubt can be an amazing

The idea snowballed. Within a few

http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/...on+oshawa+century+home&cd=8&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=ca&source=www.google.ca[4/10/2011 1:38:33 AM]

consultant and helped to expand

It was shortly after my column

When I finally submitted the final

The booklet, when it was finally

Years passed. DNA emerged in

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the community as a driving force

Today the group is a well-

The price was high. Volunteerism

On a personal level, my health

I think that part of me is relieved.

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naive. Along the way I had

It hasn't all been struggle. There

The spirit at that conference was

Given my background as an anti-

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imprisonment or even death.

I returned from Rio with a

I continued my work with

The trouble began when she

The diagnosis was asthma and for

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forced me to think rationally and

Her illness was so bad that for

I stayed by Sarah's side night and